TO CARE IS NOT TO HATE: My statement of faith
After more than 700 days of war and nearly 70,000 lives lost, silence is no longer neutrality—it is complicity. To remain quiet in the face of relentless bombardment, starvation, and displacement is to abandon the gospel’s call to justice. It is a betrayal of Christ
The blood cries out from Gaza’s rubble, from Israel’s grief, from the broken bodies of children whose names we’ll never know. This is not just a political crisis—it is a spiritual reckoning and it is time for Christ-followers to stand up and to speak out—not with opinionated loyalty or biased convictions, but with the courage of the cross.
To name injustice.
To mourn violence.
To reject false narratives.
To declare, without apology, that peace-making is not betrayal, and compassion is not hatred.
This is my statement of faith.
Not driven by nationalism.
Not conceived in prejudice
Not nurtured in prophecy
Not spoken in vengeance.
But embodied in the crucified and risen Christ—who calls us to love unconditionally, embrace boldly, grieve honestly, and stand where the wounded lie.
I encourage you to do the same:
TO CARE IS NOT TO HATE: My statement of faith
I am not antisemitic because I mourn the lives lost in Gaza.
I am not a Jew-hater because I speak out against the Israel Defence Force’s brutal attacks and indiscriminate aggression.
I am not anti-Israel because I condemn the destruction of homes, hospitals, and hope.
I am not pro-Hamas because I weep for Palestinian children buried beneath rubble.
I am not naïve because I believe in ceasefires, compassion, and coexistence.
I am not disloyal to Scripture because I cry out for justice in the land of prophets.
I am not confused about evil—I simply refuse to let one evil justify another.
To mourn for one is not to betray another.
To critique an action is not to demonize people.
To love the Jewish people is not to endorse every act of the Israeli state.
To stand with Palestinians is not to sanctify Hamas.
I follow a Christ who wept over Jerusalem with tears that spoke of judgment and mercy.
I follow a Christ who healed the servant of empire and embraced the forgotten of his own people.
I follow a Christ who refused tribal allegiance when it meant forsaking the vulnerable.
I follow a Christ who chose the cross over conquest, and communion over control.
I follow a Christ who lifted children into the center of the kingdom, above loyalty to any flag.
I worship a God who does not bless one people by crushing another.
I worship a God who called a nation to be a conduit of compassion, not a weapon of domination.
I worship a God whose covenant was never meant to sanctify supremacy, but to scatter blessing like seed—across borders, generations, and wounds.
So, I will not be silenced by accusations that confuse grief with hatred.
I will not be silent – not when bombs fall on homes.
I will not be silent – not when fellow-believers are attacked and sanctuaries destroyed
I will not be silent – not when grief is questioned and starvation politicized.
I will not be silent – not when love is twisted into loyalty to violence.
I will not be shamed into neutrality when lives are being crushed.
I will not be bullied into biased thinking when the gospel calls me to radical love.
I am for peace.
I am for truth.
I am for dignity—Jewish, Palestinian, and every image-bearer caught in the crossfire.
Peace demands truth.
Justice demands courage.
And Christ demands more than tribal allegiance.